


Journey Across Planes

by RavenWingDark



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Development, Female Friendship, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, OC, Princes of the Apocalypse, Self Insert, Whump, author knows a little about fighting, badassery, dice are rolled for real, dnd rules, level 1 monk, occasional RAW exploits, we like strategy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 14:30:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20047591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenWingDark/pseuds/RavenWingDark
Summary: Emily is on her way hiking with friends when they are dropped into her Dnd group's campaign. They figure their best option is to get strong enough to use Plane Shift to get home. As a monk with 9 HP and with a kitten with a ninth of that, chances of success feel bleak.The Elemental Cults are on the loose and only one of three friends with any knowledge of Dnd, will it be enough?





	1. An Unsolicited Change

**Author's Note:**

> Just my excuse to write some friendship and adventure and really roll dice to see if these adventurers can survive.

It was a perfect day by design. I had one hand on the wheel and another resting on the stick shift, feeling in rare form on the open road away from city traffic. I was normally a nervous driver, but today was going to be a good day and nothing was going to bring my spirits down. Marina, a tall, thin girl with mouse brown hair and blue eyes reclined in the passenger seat. She was the kind of girl that got us random invites to VIP floors at clubs. They both were. Nell sat in the back, average height like me, athletic, with curly blonde hair, hazel eyes and enough sacrasm to fill the average middle school. She was put in charge of sitting with our hiking bags and her dog, an eight-month old blue Australian Cattle Dog.

Finn, the puppy, was really the reason behind our trip, I reflected as I was watched another mile marker come and go. The day I helped Nell pick him out, I had been waiting until he was old enough for us to all go on a trip to Starved Rock State Park. The beautiful scenery, plenty of excersize, it would be a dream for a dog like Finn, and by extension, me.

“Emily, Ifound a dog you should get; a golden spaniel. It’s nice like a golden but not small like a rat,” Nell said.

“Cool, show me the picture when I’m not driving seventy-five miles per hour,” I responded to my passenger.

“Yeah, I just sent you like, eight,” she said, scrolling through her phone.

“Just let me know when I can move out of my hou—” I stopped abruptly, straining to see something ahead of me a little ways on the road. “Mirage?” I guessed, looking out at the shiny dark slick on the road in front of us. I thought it was more a summer thing, not a mid-May midwest thing, I flipped my blinker and changed lanes anyway.

As we drove closer, the mirage did not fade, in fact it moved closer to my lane, and in the moments as I drove past it, it seemed to rush under the car like a lost shadow.

And just like that, I felt myself falling as my stomach jumped up into my throat. Everything was black around me as my cut-off yelp of shock faded into silence and my eyes flickered closed.

When I woke up, it was to Marina shaking my arm. I moved my head slightly, chasing away the fogginess, when I realized I had a face full of grass.

I pulled myself up to my hands in confusion and looked around. We were in the middle of grassy field, Nell and Finn laying a little ways away, my bag across my shoulder. I gripped the leather strap across my chest. I hadn’t been wearing it in the car, and I certainly hadn’t been taking a nap in the field. And where was the car?

“Mar, we haven’t taken our hike already and decided to take a nap yet, have we?” I ask voice thinly controlled. But Marina’s face tells me what I need to know, she doesn’t know how we got where we are either. I pull myself up to my feet a little unsteadily and make my way over to Nell. I give her a little nudge with my shoe against her hip. A twitch but no response.

“Come on, Sleeping Beauty,” I say, leaning over knocking the side of her face with the back of my hand. A few seconds later, she starts to come to, as does Finn at her side. As she sits, I ask her, “Where are we?”

“Fields of grass and nothing else in sight? Are we in Champaign? Did we go too far?”

“Not a joke. I literally have no idea where we are, and if we are in southern Illinois, I’d like to know how we got here, without my car.” Something must have happened to account for the weird vision I’d seen on the road and why they couldn’t account for the time since leaving the car.

“Well, then, should we walk until we find a road?” Nell said, getting Finn a reassuring pet as he looked up at her with a whine.

I picked random direction and wandered that way, hoping to see something past the shrubs and grass, and more grass. _Actually, it’s hilly off in the distance, can’t be Illinois, _I determined. ‘_Can’t be Illinois,’ as if we could spontaenously be anywhere else. _I scoffed at my momentarily abandonment of logic when I felt something snag on my pants.

I looked down, I had unwittingly walked into a short bush. I tried to take a step back, but I found it held me there, deceptively strong thin branches wrapped around my calf.

“What the-” Before I could finish my inarticulate thought, a weedy branch whipped out, slashing at my leg with surprising accuracy for something so aboreal. No, I was freaking out, not the time for humor. A bush. Attacked me. I yelped, jumping back and freeing my leg in the process, and stood favoring my leg as I stood. The bush moved closer again. I kicked the shrub as hard as I could. I felt it connect with something solid as it caved from my blow, then started wriggling again.

“Shit!” I brought my foot down on it again, stomping. The branch cracked and I flattened the rogue shrubery to the ground.

Marina, Nell and Finn where other in a second. “What just happened?” Demanded Marina.

“I wish I knew!” I replied, grabbing my leg. “The bush attacked me!”

“Or something in the bush,” Nell reasoned, taking a stick (which did not attack) and pushing the schrub. All it was were leaves and branches. Yet, it had attacked like it was a—

A terrible, trippy thought raced through my head.

“Emily, oh my god, you’re bleeding,” Marina said, as a drop of blood dripped between my fingers secured to the cut just above my knee.

I removed my hand to see the three-inch cut dripping blood. I had never bled so much before. It didn’t hurt terribly, but I had always maintained cuts and scrapes were far better than stepping on Legos anyway.

“I don’t have anything to cover it,” I said, my brain realigning with the ephiphany I was haivng before Marina so rudely interrupted. Marina was searching through her bag now. I turned to Nell.

“I need you to count up to six seconds.” I told her. She had an understandably confused look. “I just need to disprove something. Real quick.”

She raised an eyebrow but humored me. She held up a finger and started to count. I dashed as fast as I could and skid to a stop when she called ‘Six!’ Finn had chased me and looked at me expectantly like he was anticipating more. Sorry, dog, my extensential crisis couldn’t wait.

I turned around and called back, “Does that look like sixty feet to you? I have no idea how far sixty feet is!” I inspected the distance. It sure _looked_ like sixty feet. My leg didn’t slow me down at all, which was all the proof I needed that this was Not Normal.

Nell ignored that, “Emily get over here.” I walk over to her (I counted to twelve).

Marina handed me a napkin. I gingerly wiped the blood off from around the wound. Finally, I stood up with a now festively colored napkin. The cut had stopped bleeding like you would expect from red blood cells on ‘roids.

“I’m pretty sure this is a bio-hazard, I don’t want to leave it anywhere,” I said hesistantly. Finally, we scooped some dirt on it and left, walking in a random direction picked by Nell.

They were talking, trying to figure out what had happened (No, it wasn’t my driving) but I was pre-occupied. I pushed two fingers into the palm of my other hand. It didn’t pass through. I added ten plus seven and divided by two (well, it was _somewhere _around 9 1/2). And if the reality checks had worked, that meant I wasn’t dreaming; lucidly or otherwise.

It’s real. It’s real. That _very _dnd Awakened Schrub-like being had just attacked me and I had…defeated it? Before I could work out the math for that, I remembered my bag. Stuffing my hand into the messenger bag, I found everything I brought for the hike; a granola bar, water bottle, flare, a compass, my wallet, and something I most definitely did not bring. My hand closed around the warm thing in my bag, my face blank, as I pulled my kitten out of my bag like a magician that didn’t _quite _grasp the concept.

At the small mew of protest, all three of my companions looked back at me in various levels of horror, confusion, and hunger.

“You brought your _kitten_ hiking?” Nell asked.

“I did not bring my kitten hiking,” I told her, looking down at my very new, two-month old brown-and-black spotted, big eared kitten.

“Did he climb into your bag?” Marina wondered. I pretended to consider the idea. But I checked after I left, I was paranoid I forgot my keys. No cat. But all this was…very RPG-y.

It was all starting to add up. I put my kitten back in my bag with the flap open. He wriggled around but settled once I put my hand in the bag with him. Middle of the wilderness? A strange low level monster? Pets along for the journey (although notably my sweet little Shih-Tzu was not in the bag)? I was pretty sure I had just bested a CR 0 Plant creature, what was _formerly_ my favorite CR 0 enemy. If I fueled the fire on my paranoia, how had I defeated it? I certainly didn’t feel stronger than usual. But assuming, well, assuming a lot of things, but assuming the Schrub had ten or less hit points, an unarmed strike only dealt 1+STR per hit. I had attacked twice, and there was really no chance I could have killed it in a single round. Especially since attacking on a bonus action removes the strength modifer from the damage roll. The maximum even a 20 STR character could have done would be 7. I sighed, I really thought if I had a class, I would be a wizard or something.

“Earth to Emily,” Nell said, looking just about done with my lack of input on this most strange series of events. (Not Earth.)

I redouble my conversational efforts as we finally find a walking path and walk along it. Not thirty minutes later, just when I’m third-guessing myself, we notice a figure walking down the path. I almost _feel _their shouts wither in their throats. The man walking down the road with a walking stick was short, squat, and bearded. I freeze like they do. When he is much closer, I see his bulbous, crooked nose, bushy red beard, meaty hands, and bright eyes. He looks like an actor from the Hobbit got lost while filming.

I work my mouth open and take two attempts to get my voice above a whisper. My mind reeled to understand it wasn’t CGI. This was too real, too precise, to be a dream.

“H-hail, sir. Where are we right now?” I asked. The spell on Marina and Nell seemed to break as they looked at me in surprise.

The man—dwarf—regarded us for a moment before saying in a gravelly, but friendly voice, “Aye, half a day’s travel west of Beliard.”

My blood just about froze over. I managed a nod as he continued down the road a little faster. Marina and Nell were looking harried as I tried another reality check.

“Emily? Are you alright?” Nell approached, I must have looked as white as a sheet because I probably never had had to be the target of the look of concern she was giving me. I felt my body go numb. I swallowed.

“Emily, do you know how far we are?” Marina chimed in, reaching out for my shoulder.

I nod, gulping again. “Exactly twelve miles east.”


	2. And so it begins

It was a perfect day by design. I had one hand on the wheel and another resting on the stick shift, feeling in rare form on the open road away from city traffic. I was normally a nervous driver, but today was going to be a good day and nothing was going to bring my spirits down. Marina, a tall, thin girl with mouse-brown hair and blue eyes reclined in the passenger seat. She was the kind of girl that got us random invites to VIP floors at clubs. They both were. Nell sat in the back, average height like me, athletic, with curly blonde hair, hazel eyes and enough sarcasm to fill the average middle school. She was put in charge of sitting with our hiking bags and her dog, an eight-month-old blue Australian Cattle Dog.

Finn, the puppy, was really the reason behind our trip, I reflected as I was watched another mile marker come and go. The day I helped Nell pick him out, I had been waiting until he was old enough for us to all go on a trip to Starved Rock State Park. The beautiful scenery, plenty of exercise, it would be a dream for a dog like Finn, and by extension, me.

“Emily, Ifound a dog you should get; a golden spaniel. It’s nice like a golden and not small like a rat,” Nell said.

“Cool, show me the picture when I’m not driving seventy-five miles per hour,” I responded to my passenger.

“Yeah, I just sent you like, eight,” she said, scrolling through her phone.

“Just let me know when I can move out of my hou—” I stopped abruptly, straining to see something ahead of me a little way on the road. “Mirage?” I guessed, looking out at the shiny dark slick on the road in front of us. I thought it was more a summer thing, not a mid-May midwest thing, I flipped my blinker and changed lanes anyway.

As we drove closer, the mirage did not fade, in fact, it moved closer to my lane, and in the moments as I drove past it, it seemed to rush under the car like a lost shadow.

And just like that, I felt myself falling as my stomach jumped up into my throat. Everything was black around me as my cut-off yelp of shock faded into silence and my eyes flickered closed.

* * *

When I woke up, it was to Marina shaking my arm. I moved my head slightly, chasing away the fogginess when I realized I had a face full of grass.

I pulled myself up to my hands in confusion and looked around. We were in the middle of grassy field, Nell and Finn laying a little ways away, my bag across my shoulder. I gripped the leather strap across my chest. I hadn’t been wearing it in the car, and I certainly hadn’t been taking a nap in the field. And where was the car?

“Mar, we haven’t taken our hike already and decided to take a nap yet, have we?” I ask voice thinly controlled. But Marina’s face tells me what I need to know, she doesn’t know how we got where we are either. I pull myself up to my feet a little unsteadily and make my way over to Nell. I give her a little nudge with my shoe against her hip. A twitch but no response.

“Come on, Sleeping Beauty,” I say, leaning over knocking the side of her face with the back of my hand. A few seconds later, she starts to come to, as does Finn at her side. As she sits, I ask her, “Where are we?”

“Fields of grass and nothing else in sight? Are we in Champaign? Did we go too far?”

“Not a joke. I literally have no idea where we are, and if we are in southern Illinois, I’d like to know how we got here, without my car.” Something must have happened to account for the weird vision I’d seen on the road and why they couldn’t account for the time since leaving the car.

“Well, then, should we walk until we find a road?” Nell said, getting Finn a reassuring pet as he looked up at her with a whine.

I picked a random direction and wandered that way, hoping to see something past the shrubs and grass, and more grass. _Actually, it’s hilly off in the distance, can’t be Illinois, _I determined. ‘_Can’t be Illinois,’ as if we could spontaneously be anywhere else. _I scoffed at my momentary abandonment of logic when I felt something snag on my pants.

I looked down, I had unwittingly walked into a short bush. I tried to take a step back, but I found it held me there, deceptively strong thin branches wrapped around my calf.

“What the-” Before I could finish my inarticulate thought, a weedy branch whipped out, slashing at my leg with surprising accuracy for something so arboreal. No, I was freaking out, not the time for humor. A bush. Attacked me. I yelped, jumping back and freeing my leg in the process, and stood favoring my leg as I stood. The bush moved closer again. I kicked the shrub as hard as I could. I felt it connect with something solid as it caved from my blow, then started wriggling again.

“Shit!” I brought my foot down on it again, stomping. The branch cracked and I flattened the rogue shrubbery to the ground.

Marina, Nell, and Finn were over in a second. “What just happened?” Demanded Marina.

“I wish I knew!” I replied, grabbing my leg. “The bush attacked me!”

“Or something in the bush,” Nell reasoned, taking a stick (which did not attack) and pushing the shrub. All it was were leaves and branches. Yet, it had attacked like it was a—

A terrible, trippy thought raced through my head.

“Emily, oh my god, you’re bleeding,” Marina said, as a drop of blood dripped between my fingers secured to the cut just above my knee.

I removed my hand to see the three-inch cut dripping blood. I had never bled so much before. It didn’t hurt terribly, but I had always maintained cuts and scrapes were far better than stepping on Legos anyway.

“I don’t have anything to cover it,” I said, my brain realigning with the epiphany I was having before Marina so rudely interrupted. Marina was searching through her bag now. I turned to Nell.

“I need you to count up to six seconds,” I told her. She had an understandably confused look. “I just need to disprove something. Real quick.”

She raised an eyebrow but humored me. She held up a finger and started to count. I dashed as fast as I could and skid to a stop when she called ‘Six!’ Finn had chased me and looked at me expectantly like he was anticipating more. Sorry, dog, my existential crisis couldn’t wait.

I turned around and called back, “Does that look like sixty feet to you? I have no idea how far sixty feet is!” I inspected the distance. It sure _looked_ like sixty feet. My leg didn’t slow me down at all, which was all the proof I needed that this was Not Normal.

Nell ignored that, “Emily get over here.” I walk over to her (I counted to twelve).

Marina handed me a napkin. I gingerly wiped the blood off from around the wound. Finally, I stood up with a now festively colored napkin. The cut had stopped bleeding like you would expect from red blood cells on ‘roids.

“I’m pretty sure this is a bio-hazard, I don’t want to leave it anywhere,” I said hesitantly. Finally, we scooped some dirt on it and left, walking in a random direction picked by Nell.

They were talking, trying to figure out what had happened (No, it wasn’t my driving) but I was pre-occupied. I pushed two fingers into the palm of my other hand. It didn’t pass through. I added ten plus seven and divided by two (well, it was _somewhere _around 9 1/2). And if the reality checks had worked, that meant I wasn’t dreaming; lucidly or otherwise.

It’s real. It’s real. That _very _dnd Awakened Shrub-like being had just attacked me and I had…defeated it? Before I could work out the math for that, I remembered my bag. Stuffing my hand into the messenger bag, I found everything I brought for the hike; a granola bar, water bottle, flare, a compass, my wallet, and something I most definitely did not bring. My hand closed around the warm thing in my bag, my face blank, as I pulled my kitten out of my bag like a magician that didn’t _quite _grasp the concept.

At the small mew of protest, all three of my companions looked back at me in various levels of horror, confusion, and hunger.

“You brought your _kitten_ hiking?” Nell asked.

“I did not bring my kitten hiking,” I told her, looking down at my very new, two-month-old brown-and-black spotted, big-eared kitten.

“Did he climb into your bag?” Marina wondered. I pretended to consider the idea. But I checked after I left, I was paranoid I forgot my keys. No cat. But all this was…very RPG-y.

It was all starting to add up. I put my kitten back in my bag with the flap open. He wriggled around but settled once I put my hand in the bag with him. Middle of the wilderness? A strange low-level monster? Pets along for the journey (although notably, my sweet little Shih-Tzu was not in the bag)? I was pretty sure I had just bested a CR 0 Plant creature, what was _formerly_ my favorite CR 0 enemy. If I fueled the fire on my paranoia, how had I defeated it? I certainly didn’t feel stronger than usual. But assuming, well, assuming a lot of things, but assuming the Shrub had ten or fewer hit points, an unarmed strike only dealt 1+STR per hit. I had attacked twice, and there was really no chance I could have killed it in a single round. Especially since attacking a bonus action removes the strength modifier from the damage roll. The maximum even a 20 STR character could have done would be 7. I sighed, I really thought if I had a class, I would be a wizard or something.

“Earth to Emily,” Nell said, looking just about done with my lack of input on this most strange series of events. (Not Earth.)

I redouble my conversational efforts as we finally find a walking path and walk along with it. Not thirty minutes later, just when I’m third-guessing myself, we notice a figure walking down the path. I almost _feel _their shouts wither in their throats. The man walking down the road with a walking stick was short, squat, and bearded. I freeze like they do. When he is much closer, I see his bulbous, crooked nose, bushy red beard, meaty hands, and bright eyes. He looks like an actor from the Hobbit got lost while filming.

I work my mouth open and take two attempts to get my voice above a whisper. My mind reeled to understand it wasn’t CGI. This was too real, too precise, to be a dream.

“H-hail, sir. Where are we right now?” I asked. The spell on Marina and Nell seemed to break as they looked at me in surprise.

The man—dwarf—regarded us for a moment before saying in a gravelly, but friendly voice, “Aye, half a day’s travel west of Beliard.”

My blood just about froze over. I managed a nod as he continued down the road a little faster. Marina and Nell were looking harried as I tried another reality check.

“Emily? Are you alright?” Nell approached, I must have looked as white as a sheet because I probably never had had to be the target of the look of concern she was giving me. I felt my body go numb. I swallowed.

“Emily, do you know how far we are?” Marina chimed in, reaching out for my shoulder.

I nod, gulping again. “Exactly twelve miles east.”


	3. When Inn Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Any self-respecting RPG player knows where to start their adventure...

  
We follow down the path the dwarf came from as I struggle to internalize my panic. This was quite the strain on my usually unflappable nature (unless you count over-excitement). And I knew my friends would let this continue for roughly four more minutes before they pinned me down and forced me to give them straight answers.  
“How did you know? What have you been checking? Here another: why are you so monumentally freaked?” Nell demanded. It seemed like I miscalculated. I looked down at my bag, where Safari, my kitten, had finally settled back to sleep. Oh my god, didn’t kittens have 1 HP? How was I going to keep us alive? I run my hand across my face and turn to Marina.  
“You know Sword Art Online?” I asked her. Instantly, a small smile crossed her face. I had shown the anime to her years ago, nervous that she would judge —she didn’t, and we quickly finished the series. “Kirito plays a video game, then gets stuck in the game as his character?” I add for Nell’s benefit. I gesture vaguely around us.  
“What, this is like a video game?” she asked suspiciously. We continue walking. “Or like Westworld?”  
“I think we’re in something like that. That man was a Dwarf. Captial ‘D’ Dwarf, species.”  
Nell shook his head like she wasn’t sure if was serious or making a distasteful joke. “He was short.”  
Back to Marina then. I take her arm, turning her arm around to the tattoo on her forearm. A large geometric clover and another tattoo beside it with Elven script on it. Something about taking the first step on an adventure. I present her arm to her, my thumb over the ink.  
“What do you think?” I ask her. Her lips disappear into a flat line, as she gives me a small nod. She’ll listen, which is good enough.  
“In a couple miles, we’ll get to a bridge, and across that a few miles is Beliard,” I begin. “It’s a city in a campaign setting in Dungeons & Dragons.” I really didn’t want to tell people, but Marina already knew and I knew Nell wouldn’t judge me. I turned my gaze to Nell’s neutral but interested face. “And I know, because I play every week. This is around where my group’s party was during our last game.”  
If I wasn’t right about this, I was never going to trust myself again. But God, I was seeing everyone for the hit points they’d have: commoners had 4 HP, only marginally better than a kitten. And if I’d been attacked what was certainly an Awakened Shrub, I had to take a minimum of 1 damage as no landed hit could deal less. At the very least, I was 1/4 dead. But it certainly didn’t feel like it. I was honestly doing alright, despite the uncomfortable feeling there, and when I’d told my friends I was feeling okay when they’d checked in a couple of minutes ago, I hadn’t been lying.  
We reached the bridge, just like I said we would. Nell turned to me.  
“I’ll hear you out,” she said. She was logical, she wouldn’t ignore something when confronted with evidence.  
I don’t have any more evidence to offer, but that’s not really what she was asking. So I begin to explain what I can. Finn is getting tired of running ahead and chasing squirrels and trots by us, tongue lolling. I explain the d20, and how things were controlled by attack rolls and hit points (Just like Pokemon games, Nell) and how we might all be human, but there were dozens of other options out there. I tell them towns are full of non-player characters controlled by the dungeon master, who, yes, does decide everything like the coding of a video game. I’d probably have to re-explain that one a couple times. Finally, I got to touch on player characters and classes. By then, I was on a roll. Now that my fear of judgement had faded away, I was mostly just pretty happy to impart my formerly mostly useless information.  
“So basically, Marina, it’s like, in Wizard 101 you have to chose to be a wizard...or a sorcerer or a mage, right?”  
“No, but go on.”  
I shrugged. She had loved that game, probably still played on occasion but I hadn’t. “You chose who you want to be, from a fighter to a paladin to a wizard to, well any class the internet can conceive. Dnd is basically a whole lot of freedom supported by a skeleton of rules.” I thought for a moment, my English major brain waxing poetic. “Like America.”

Nell was too accustomed to me to roll her eyes at that. Finally the town, a charming, sparse looking group of brown and tan buildings, I don’t think I remembered any description of the town. “Okay, follow my lead, just like the Renaissance Fair—well, less drunk though.” I amended. I exhaled and steeled myself. Vala Ramhammer had walked through this town several times. I imagined her gleaming armor, her alien eyes, long white hair, and greatsword strapped to her back. Here I was, living, breathing a world created to be enjoyed simply by description. And I was here.  
There were a dozen villagers milling about, women in long skirts buying bread, hairy men tending stores, two children chasing each other with sticks, it was everything I could have imagined and more. The bread actually looked really good, too bad I was a little low on gold pieces.  
Nell quickly gave up on reining Finn in with all the town’s sights and sounds. There were other animals wandering about anyway.  
“They’re all humans,” Marina observed. I looked around for a moment, vaguely surprised. If they were all human, that would probably lead to some kind of seedy underground racist faction, which I certainly hadn’t detected as Vala. But then I saw something. I subtly pointed her out. “She’s a half-elf, look, tall, thin, pointy ears.”  
They followed my gaze at the lean, black haired woman with pointy ears with wide eyes. She was going about normal daily chores, and I had to say, it was strange to see a non-human do something so mundane and non-fantastical. She wasn’t even wearing an Elven headpiece or long green silk robes.  
Soon enough, I lead my friends to the inn, which I had only ever been in my imagination, yet it looked exactly how I had seen it; a large square wooden building with a staircase to a second floor where there would be three or four rooms, a human man was cleaning off tankards at the bar as a beer barrel dripped foam slightly behind him. Though there were many worn wooden tables, only two were occupied, with one person at each table, drinking quietly. Tavern music wafted through the room by a lone halfling (or gnome) bard in the corner. It was perfect. Exactly like every RPG ever. So familiar in this strange world that I felt a flood of relief. I could do this. I knew how to do this. I had been training my whole life.  
I gesture my head to the bartender—no, innkeeper—and we walk up to him.  
“Excuse me, sir. I was wondering—ughh,” I cut myself off as I realize I had put my arm in a puddle of spilled beer and lift it, flicking off the liquid. Then I blink. _Did I just experience my first bad roll? Is that how it felt? What was my charisma modifier? If it was a negative, I don’t know how I could deal._  
“How can I help you three?” He prompts, putting up a poor attempt at customer service face.  
I rally. This was the simplest thing a prospective adventurer could do. “We were wondering if you had any work for us. We’re pretty well known in the area for doing side-jobs, so you if you have anything like rats in your basement, we can handle it for a little coin and a bed for the night.”  
This time, he gets down his rag and considers the offer carefully. “Funny you should say that, we are having a rat problem in the cellar, nasty vermin. If you could take care of them I’d throw a few silver your way along with a night’s stay and a hot meal.”  
I grin, taking his hand and giving it a shake. “Much appreciated. Say, do you happen to have any old weapons laying around?”  
He looked thoughtful at this but finally nodded. “I think we’ve got a bow down there, people tend to leave things behind after a few drinks. If it works, you can have it.”  
I flash him a smile and thank him again and lead Nell, Marina, and Finn to the indicated trapdoor to the cellar. I’m feeling good about this now. I had gotten a dismal persuasion check, which could have compromised everything, so I had lied, switching to deception, which required a new roll. Of course, there was the risk of getting a lower score, but the gamble had paid off.  
Nell jumped down the last couple rungs and looked around. “How did you know he had a rat problem?”  
“What low-level inn doesn’t?” I asked rhetorically. Nell shrugged helplessly. “Aha!” I retrieve the old bow in the corner and dust it off a little. It’s not much, probably only a step up from the wooden bow my dad and I made when I was in middle school and that one had a range of about fifteen feet. We managed to find two usable arrows in the damaged quiver and I hand it to Nell, who accepts hesitantly.  
“Why am I using this? I told you, I did archery as a camp counselor last summer but I wasn’t any good at it.”  
“It’s not that,” I say, “that shrubish nightmare got me thinking. It did 1 point of damage minimum and if we were commoners like I originally thought, that means I would have been at least 1/4 dead. But I feel fine,” I demonstrated by doing a quick little shuffle. It still looked nasty, but I was realizing I’d have to take a short rest to fix that. “So I think we’re player characters. With classes. I’m some kind of melee class, since I could fight it like I did, and Nell, you have Finn, so you could be a Beast Master Ranger—sorry about that by the way—and you should be good with a bow and arrow, dexy, ah, dexterous. The rats may look like small targets, but they’ll be as easy to hit than a person, trust me.” I turn to Marina. She gives me a helpless, hopeful look. How many times had she told me her worst nightmare would be being in a world where people have powers and being a muggle/non-bender/quirkless? Way too many times for normal conversations. But she was a magical person, so she must be magical here too.  
“Marina, try to grow a plant, or move water,” I say, opening my water bottle to her.  
“Is that a vegan joke?”  
“Do I look like Nell to you?” I ask. She shrugs, point taken. None of us are sure how she should move the water, but she concentrates, she moves her hands, and nothing happens. She takes a deep breath, screws her eyes shut, and the water doesn’t so much as wriggle. But out of my shirt grows a tiny little cotton puff, then two, then three until I clamp my hand on my shoulder to try getting them to stop popping up like popcorn.  
“Marina! Look,” Nell says, nudging her. “You’ve made yourself completely self-sustainable!”  
I put the fluff in her hand and grinned at them. There was no way to believe this wasn’t real anymore, but maybe it would be alright. “Let’s do this.”

—  
We marched through the door with all the confidence of people who had seen pet store rats, played RPGs from the safety of their own home, and hadn’t anticipated how loud and vicious the rodents could be. I had set my bag along with Safari down in the other room and when the four of us entered, four rats in the middle of the room saw us, squeaked and ran toward us. We all scrambled back, like any sane normal world person would do. But we didn’t have that luxury for long.  
One of the little guys came running at me and I kicked him in the face, throwing him back. At least it isn’t a Tarrasque, I thought as the rat twitched and stopped moving. It hurt my heart a little, because I actually really did like rodents, but these were gnarly, vicious ones so I had to put that aside. I attack again in the same turn, missing. Nell fired an arrow, that went wide, Marina was quiet in concentration. Two rats tried to bite me but I moved out of the way. They couldn’t hit me even with Pack Tactics? I didn’t understand how my AC could be so high in yoga pants, and a shirt now with a hole in it. Finn was watching unsure, but quickly his instincts kicked in and he was tearing through the rats, sending them scattering around him. Nell nailed one to the floor, which Finn picked up and shook savagely. He was having a great time. If only Safari was a little older, he could help out too.  
Suddenly, out of the crack in the floor, small weeds and vines began to appear, entangling several rats in its snare. The squealing multiplied in loudness, sending Finn over the edge of excitement as he snatched up a trapped rat and shook it vigorously. Nell came over and we finished off the remaining rats, throwing them in a bucket. I must be a Monk, I thought. I feel no need to find a sword and I’m hard to hit. It made sense looking back, I had done four years of karate and two of tae kwon do, breaking boards, jump kicks, the whole shebang. Still I hadn’t thought something so normal would equate to my Class. I gathered up my rat bucket, and my bag again and tipped the rat bucket into a pile of trash in the back. Bôn appeitit.  
When we confirmed a finished job, hardly any rat bites worse off, we got a table and enjoyed plates of beef stew and bread while he scrounged up some slightly wilted vegetables for Marina’s plate. She looked too happy to care. She focused and created a tiny mushroom sprout on a potato peel, like she couldn’t believe it. Nell and I exchanged a smile.  
“That’s a cantrip, Mar. Spells go from cantrips to 9th level, which are game- changing spells. Spellcasters can only do a certain amount of spells a day, or per long rest, depending on their level, but you can do as many cantrips as you want.” I stuck out my hand to prevent Safari from jumping off the table and fished out a few more chunks of meat onto a napkin for him. “I really don’t know anything about Druids, which is what you are, by the way—nature-based full casters. But I think they have two 1st level spells and a couple cantrips at 1st level. So you could do that spell you did twice.”  
After I had explained spells more in-depth, and covered spell save DCs, we headed upstairs to our room, each of us three silver richer. Well, we made enough to have one more day of Poor living conditions, though I decided not to ruin our victory with talk like that.  
We all piled into the large, lumpy bed, Finn stubbornly laying over our feet and Safari pressed against my cheek. We tried to talk about what we thought of the day, how we were going to get out of here. I didn’t know a way home, except for a later spell I was pretty certain Druids could learn—_Plane Shift_. But was our home even on a plane? And we couldn’t wait that long. But still, we’d find a way back.


	4. They're Still Alive

The next day, I was rummaging through my bag, trying to figure out how we were going to eat tomorrow when my hand came in contact with something large in jingly. I pulled it out. Sitting in the palm of my hand was a heavy cloth bag—one of those that just screams medieval money. I open it up and nearly not believing it, count out 100 gold pieces.

“How did you not know that was there? And how do you have it?” Nell asked incredulously, looking at the wealth we now had.

I shook my head, having no idea in the slightest. Then I pause, and think of our Classes, and that I _really _wanted to know if my Strength was shitty because I kind of prided myself on being a little strong. My hand touched paper, I pulled it out and looked in disbelief on the numbers on the page. Then it clicked together.

“Noooo!” I cried out, grabbing the bag. I wished for puppy—no, not that right now, a sword! I want a sword! Nothing new or interesting was pulled from the bag. I tried again for ice cream, a quiver of infinite arrows, a single ration, nothing. I groaned.

“This was the one magic item I ever thought up, the Bag of Minor Wish. It was a _little _broken for a low-level item but basically you could pull three non-magical objects of worth of 100 gp or less from the bag before its magic would be expended. And I got my cat, a 100 gp, and a page of _numbers.” _I stressed.

“Doesn’t sound too bad to me,” Nell pointed out, pulling the page from my hands. “What does this mean? 10, 16, 14?”

It perked my interest up again. She was right, it maybe it wasn’t _all _bad, maybe I wouldn’t get my cat killed either, anyone’s dnd experience with pets be damned. I took it back and moved between Marina and Nell pointing it out. Marina first because she was a goddess walking the Earth—er, not actually sure what this world was called. “Strength 12, Dexterity 14, Constitution 18, dang you beefy, Mar, Intelligence 12, Wisdom 16, sounds about right, Charisma 12. HP 11, AC 12, DC 13. Heeey, ACDC.” I joked, then quickly explained Armor Class and Difficulty Class at Nell’s glare. But one thing had me worried, these stats were pretty mid-range while WIS should have been loaded up and INT dumped. “ I don’t know much about Druids, I’ve only really played Paladins and Fighters. You have _Druidcraft_, _Mending_, oh _Entangle_ must be what you used, _Healing Word_, and _Create/Destroy Water_. How utilitarian, knew you’d be more RP sided.”

I moved to Nell’s. “Strength 10, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 12, that’s a lie, you’re smarter than that, but it would be crazy to have a high intelligence ranger,” I assured her. “Wisdom 14, not bad, Charisma 12. HP 12, AC 13, DC 12. Yeah, typical ranger. Good for you.”

I look at mine. I hope desperately for a good min/max as I am wont to do. Nothing better than an optimized character, just ask my Swashbuckler Rogue 3/Fighter 1. Or the Soradin I was planning on building. I was practically drooling as I looked at my stats. “Looks like I _am _a Monk! Strength 8? No way, that’s such a lie. Okay, but Dex is 18, Con _13? For a melee fighter rolling a d8?_”I shrieked slightly. Who had made this? Even with our Human stat bonuses? A thirteen? “Intelligence 14, seems a _little high,_ Wisdom 17?” I spluttered a laugh. I was probably the least wise person I knew 80% of the time. I personally would have given myself a 9 or 10 and thrown the other points in the trash, because they didn’t belong in the next stat either. “Charisma 12. HP a whopping 9, AC-oh-my-god-18, DC 13.”

I sat down, exhausted by all this, then handed the paper back to Nell. “By the way, your dog has five hit points.”

* * *

We walked down the street, reveling in our new wealth. I insisted our first stop be the armory and Nell and Marina had no choice other than to agree. We were set on our goal, and even waking up in a weird different plane didn’t mess us up as much as you would have thought. Finn was excited for the sights and sounds of the city again too. “I’m a Monk,” I explained as we approached the market, “the entire Class is based on not wearing armor and running fast, so my AC is as good as it’s gonna get but you guys need armor or else you can’t fight to the best of your abilities.” We got to the market and picked out leather armor for Nell, bringing her AC to a relatively safe 14 and helped pick out hide armor for Marina, also bringing her to 14. I made her get a wooden shield too, just in case. My first instinct was to protect spellcasters, not to mention my best friend of 17 years. And we had fun, after a little while, we forgot we were buying these to save our lives and it felt like the Renaissance Faire with garlic pickles and sassafrass drinks and portabello mushroom burgers. Nell led us over to the weapons store off the street a bit and asked me questions about proficiencies while the shopkeep greatly exaggerated the use of a dagger. Still, we bought a dagger, ten darts, arrows, a shortsword, and two quarterstaffs, one for me and one for Marina, as well as a few more packs and waterskins, and a week of rations. I sure was glad Marina could produce water.

“We all fight with bo’s now.”

I handed Marina and Nell 5 gp each in emergency money and put the significantly lighter pouch of gold back in my bag as I was officially the most likely to notice if someone tried to take it. “We’ve got to train. No one gets anywhere staying in one of these towns. If we can just find a little spot near town to practice a little we can start figuring out what to do,” I suggested.

“It won’t be dangerous in the woods? Wouldn’t there be ‘encounters?’” Marina pointed out, _druidcrafting_ a flower out of a piece of moss. I tried not to be too jealous, but wow, that was cool. What did magic feel like? How did she do it? Did it feel different with every spell? I had a million questions that would have to wait until she had a little while to figure it out herself.

“Nah, we walked ten miles without seeing anything but a sage dwarf and an evil shrub, I’m sure it will be fine,” I assured her with all 17 misplaced points of Wisdom.


	5. Training & Encounter

Wielding a bo staff was a lot less flailing that I expected. We walked a distance from town and settled for a training day, and almost immediately, I realized my coordination was a little better. Better still, was my first attempt at using the staff. I deftly flipped the staff in my hands, running through slowed motions for parrying opponents to my right, left and back. I finished with my hand out in front of me and the quarter staff held parallel in my other arm. I had never taken the ornamental weaponry class offered at my dojouen but I recognized the technique, a ready stance, equally suited to moving into offensive or defensive movements.

It was as if I now had muscle memory for something I had only seen a few times. Not perfect, but a baseline I could build on. I was using Hapkido, the same displine of weapon fighting practiced in my dojouen—Korean staff fighting.

The staff I’d picked was about three feet along, making it a hanbo—or a half sized bo staff. It made it more suited for one-handed attacks and less cumbersome to jump into unarmed strikes. They could even be thrown, and most straight, thick branches could be used as a hanbo.

I practiced a few basic spins, testing out the feel of the weapon. I seemed to know where the ends were, and despite the length of the weapon, as I slowly ran through movements, the ends didn’t drag across the ground once.

Fifteen minutes of practice later, I was satisfied enough to check in with what Nell and Marina were doing. To my surprise and glee, Marina was doing fine with her longer bo staff. She seemed to be focusing on blocks and coordinating it between her hands; not as deftly as I had but she definitely had proficiency. I was thrilled about the prospect of sparring with her.

But I checked in with Nell first, where she was drawing and releasing with the old bow. We’d gotten her a quiver and new arrows but we hadn’t been able to find any bows in our price range.

_Tw—CRACK!_

Half way through Nell’s draw with the another arrow, the bow snapped in half. Nell startled back but didn’t seem hurt more than irritated as she picked up what was now two pieces of wood connected by a string. “Fuck. This sucks,” She said. I could tell how frustrated she was with having to learn how to use a bow in the first place when yesterday, she’d been much more focused with getting into med school. Even if she was now good at archery, it didn’t mean the being uprooted was anyone’s idea of a good time. Well, maybe mine. I realized guiltily. If you take away the mortal danger, and the actually being here, I was with my best friends and “playing” Dnd, which were just about my two favorite pasttimes in our world. I suddenly wondered if I wasn’t the only one to be put in this situation. Interesting question—was it after me, and my friends were dragged along, or would it have picked us, even if I hadn’t played Dnd?

“Marina, could you come here for a sec?” I asked my friend. She set her bo staff against a tree and came over, giving Nell a sympathetic look at the bow.

“Do you think you could mend this?” I handed the weapon to her.

She looked at it in her hands. “With, like—”

I nodded encouragingly. I didn’t exactly have any advice to give her on this.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She mouthed a few words and the bow’s wood began to knit itself back together without the crack.

___

_Cra-crack. Cra-crack. Cra-crack. Cra-crack. Cra-crack. Cra-crack._

I spun and shuffled and lapped a young tree, not hitting with full force, but trying to measure how my attacks worked. In six seconds I could strike two times. Exactly. It was strange, measured, nothing like the fighting I’d done before where it sounded like a kid banging on a busted drum more than a set pattern. Any flourish still meant 2 blows in six seconds, unless I used a two-handed strike. Or when I missed with a spectuarly low roll.

Last time I checked, Marina was concentrating on figuring out her cantrips so I was startled when I heard her _yelp._

It was not something I wanted to hear again. I also never wanted to see her attacked by a black clad man in with a scimitar. He’d sunk the blade into her side, through the blood pounding in my ears, I saw it pierce the leather armor she wore. I didn’t react then. She did.

She reached out to him, pushing the scimitar from her side with one hand with force of will I hadn’t seen from her before. The other hand reached out to him, grabbing his robes. Fire flickered across her hands angrily, smoking but not burning the robes. Then fear came back to her expression as what had happened sunk in. She began to step back.

No. “No! Marina—stop!” I yelled to her. She froze where she was. She looked at me in shock, but she didn’t move farther from the person who had attacked her. She was scared, but she stayed.

Nell moved then. She drew and released an arrow that lodged itself in his back, making the cultist stumble forward, almost into Marina, while Finn tripped over himself, startled.

I was moving as fast as I could, hanbo already gaining momentum parallel to the ground when I struck. It wasn’t a hard hit, but it struck just where it needed to, smashing into his neck with a _crack!_ And the robed man dropped to the ground. I grabbed Marina’s shoulders in my own panic. Her hands fluttered to her wound.

“Mar, I’m so sorry—I didn’t see him—I—are you alright?” My eyes felt a little blurry. Right now, my friend’s wide blue eyes shocked and hurt, _this was not a game. _Nell whipped her bag off her back and was rifling through, much calmer and effective than I, as I pulled her to sit down.

Her hand glowed at the wound with green light. She took a deep, calming breath.

“I-I think I’m okay.” Her hand left her wound, hand and armor bloody but the wound looked like it had closed. Nell put her hand on my shoulder with a little pressure. I had the presence of mind to scoot aside, Nell cleaning off where the wound was. As she did, I activated my HP sense, feeling my eyes sharpen and take in every detail. All of us were at full health. Even Marina was at 11/11. She’d used _Cure Wounds. _The injury was still there, but it was closed and looked several days old and healing. Full health looked like it didn’t mean perfectly healthy, but rather that she would not be hindered by what was left.

I let out a sigh of relief, leaning my head on Marina’s shoulder, in her fruity-smelling hair. Alive. All of us. Okay. I can handle this. Her hand found mine and I held it tight.

Alive in a world trying to kill us. My head swam, I had killed someone. But now that Marina was okay, I was just glad the encounter was over.

I reached out and touched the man’s cloak. It left scratchy and heavy. It felt real. But really, what was he but another voice of the DM—less than that? Nameless, conjured into existence with a roll of a dice. No past, no name, no voice. A small slipped across my face.

I felt Nell’s hand on my shoulder. “Are _you _okay?” There was uncharacteristically open worry on her face, and fear too. I nodded. An NPC. Marina and Nell, living breathing, versus that? Easy.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” again, I wasn’t lying. “Marina, can you get up? We should move a little further.”

“Wait, Emily, what was that you said to Marina?” Nell asked after a minute or so had passed. “Not to step back?”

I nodded grimly, remembering how close that had been. Despite everything Marina had listened to me. It reminded me of days walking home from 5th grade when I still didn’t know when to cross the street and she’d grab my backpack to keep me from walking when cars were coming. Then, of course, I wouldn’t watch the traffic because I knew she would stop me. But still.

What mattered is Marina was perfectly fine. We were all perfectly fine, statistically.

“That...man, got a surprise round on us. Either we didn’t percieve him, or we weren’t expecting him to attack. You wouldn’t have gotten attacked again until his turn. If you got out of his reach without using the appropriate measures, he would get an Attack of Opportunity on you. Unless you take the time to disengage, when you move away, they get a strike on you.”

Nell exhaled a weary sigh. I met Marina’s eyes again. “Tonight I’ll explain as much as I can about combat. But, that fire you made was really cool. I think it was a cantrip so you’ll be able to do that as much as you want. We should lalso figure out how to use your other spells. I think you have a few more you haven’t tried?”


	6. Old Friends

We trudged off to bed at the inn again, and I rented our room again with much more ease now that we had a fair amount of coin. Marina tested out her last spell slot before we went to bed, creating water from her closed fist. After the initial spill on the floor, we were quite pleased to fill our waterskins with something other than wellwater.

\--

The next day we spent 10gp on a new bow for Nell, which we should have done in the first place. On a whim I stop and backpedal to a street vendor selling traveling clothes for townsfolk. I almost trip but manage, pulling out a long forest green traveling cloak. It didn’t offer any protection, I was sure, but it did have a cool hood. When haggling failed, I paid a full 2 gold for it, but it was well worth it. Too bad. I even did the visibly wince at the price and let a silence elapse trick I’d picked up in my real life. Once we were out of the town, I counted up our remaining coin. 17gp—not bad, but overly clear that staying in Beliard wasn’t going to be an option. Unless we all got jobs at the tavern—we were going to need to pick up other work out of town. Something that would make us stronger.

Besides the obvious—adventuring and being mercenaries, there were a few options, maybe a little less deadly. After the near-disaster of yesterday, I was sorely tempted to go from some “less dangerous.” We could be guards with supply carts, or escort people to other towns. At level 1, we were still better than merchants on the road or Class-less hired muscle.

But how many caravans were destroyed so adventurers could apprehend bandits? If we didn’t play our cards right, my own character, Vala, and her party, the Rogue Ravens, would be investigating our deaths.

No, adventuring was quite possibly one of the better ways to _stay alive._

\---

We went back to the same spot back to the same area. I didn’t know what the process for the man was, it wasn’t something that we’d had to deal with before, but we had given him a semblance of last rites.

“Did you hear that?” Nell asked, cocking her head.

I was playing with a long piece of grass and Safari and looked up. “Hear something?” I strained to hear but didn’t hear anything or see anything out of the ordinary. Certainly didn’t mean there wasn’t something there. I tucked my 1-hit insta-death kitten in my bag despite his protests and reached over to grab Finn’s collar. Dogs had 1d8, which wasn’t especially impressive either. His floppy ears pricked up and he let out a nervous keening growl. Then I heard brush rustle and saw a shaggy tail. There was no return growl, which made me certain that these were not dogs but wolves, who stayed quiet during the hunt.

I pulled Finn back with me and threw Safari’s bag a ten feet away, praying…for a dozen things not go to wrong with it. My first instinct was to go back to back with my friends but…

“Spread out! Don’t get too close to each other!” I called. Another request that didn’t make sense if this was our world. Hesitantly, they moved away from each other, stiffly watching the undergrowth.

Pack Tactics—if we all grouped up, every wolf could have advantage. I didn’t know how many there were, but I hazarded there were at least three. Spreading them out was our best chance.

Charging from the forest came five bulky, furry figures and my heart almost skipped a beat in panic. Three looked like normal wolves you’d see in a zoo, maybe a bit more mangy. Two were larger and had bone plating along their spine and red eyes. Dire wolves.

This fight was beyond Deadly. It bordered on unwinnable. Who was DMing this?

An arrow sailed through the air, impacting with a smaller wolf, nearly throwing him off track. Vines shoot out of the ground, reaching out to _Entangle _the two dire wolves but they leap free of the snaking vines, one of them charging straight for Marina and sinking his teeth in, bringing her to the ground with horrible ferocity. I don’t have time to react as my hanbo whiffs past the nose of a wolf and Finn snaps at his leg in warning, but is too overwhelmed to attack.

The wolf near me gets too excited and I beat it back with a strike with the staff to the head. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nell with a dagger take down one of the wolves, only for another to take its place.

Two figures run in to join us. Humanoids, one tall, with shiny heavy armor and long white hair, another shorter, thin, with red hair. The wolf in front of me was felled in a single blow of the white-haired woman’s sword. I don’t react at all as I run past, I distantly set aside what I saw to register later. I’m to Marina in moments, stepping in and attacking as she pulls herself up off the ground and heals. That’s both her 1st level spells. Just like that, she only has cantrips.

Finn followed me and tore down the wolf I’d hit. Two down, three remaining. Nell and the redhead are fighting one of the dires, holding their own. The long haired woman takes an armor-piercing bite from the other, retaliating with another sword swing and a blast of radiant light. It was blinding and even ten feet away, strangely warm, like a space heater. I activate my HP ability to check on everyone. Marina is safely at 10/11 again. Nell’s okay. Red is at full. White is hurting. I’m distracted.

I don’t register that last part until slavering jaws come toward me as I try to hit back and I fall onto the grass, hanbo twisted awkwardly between me and the wolf. Marina swung at it with her quarterstaff but it barely seemed to notice as it found my hand and bit down hard. Everything went dark and foggy and numb for a few moments as I registered the pain in my wrist and arm but I managed to stay awake, or it would have all been over for me, all against a CR ¼ enemy. I managed to kick him back when I see the white-haired warrior’s eyes connect with mine as I laid in the grass. She started running toward us, dodging a snap from the dire wolf in the process. Leaving Nell and Finn to deal with the dire beast, until the lithe redhead easily takes her place.

From where I am on the ground, I can see her surprisingly clearly. White hair down the waist, pupilless gray eyes, a charcoal line from beneath each eye to her jaw, six feet tall. She wore a mustard-gold tapestry with a raven emblazoned on it as if it were a skirt over her armor. On her waist was the holy symbol to the Raven Queen.

It was Vala Ramhammer, the character I’d played for months. Created months before then, even. She was real, she was in front of me, wielding a massive sword, bloodied, and terrifying, if I wasn’t winded already, my breath would have caught in awe. She stopped beside me, looking like a skyscraper. A gauntleted hand reaches down and hauls me up by my upper arm as I work my feet back under me. I feel energy seep into me, like the barest of waves skimming the shore. Slow and steady. My forearm and hand dulled in pain just slightly. I saw my HP tick up from 1 to 5.

If they’re here, I know we’ll be fine. She’s strong. She’s strong enough to save us. My grip on my hanbo tightens as I slam down on against the dire wolf that attacked me with a spin. 180 degrees behind my staff is my foot, following up with my heel in the same spot. He goes down and doesn’t move thereafter.

* * *

Nell had gained some color in her face again and the disorientation had quickly faded. We gathered around the fire, pooling our supplies and wrapping our wounds. Vala pooled a little more healing energy into me, and I wrapped my injured arm with Marina’s help.

Nell looked a little on edge with Vala. “Your tall friend is…” She broke off.

As salted meat and dried fruit was passed out, I dove into a little more exposition for Nell and Marina’s benefit.”Vala’s Aasimar. She’s part Celestial, so even though she looks human, she isn’t. She’s pretty different, actually, she can live like twice as long as humans for one.”

Vala nodded. “I’ve got some magic, and I’m a paladin, so I fight with my sword and divine powers—I like to get close and personal with their enemies, it keeps my softer friends out of trouble while they think of a plan.”

Marina frowns. “Who’s the tank in our group?”

“Ehhh, class-wise it should be Nell, Ranger has the highest hit die. Traditionally, it goes Barbarian, Fighter, Paladin, Ranger, and on. But our Druid has the highest Constitution. And Monks should be up there too, but I’m less resilient than I should be. I might be able to do something about that in two levels, but for now…” I tapered off with my train of thought. The first thing I was going to handle was the two odd-numbered stats on my sheet. They were unsightly. Normally, I’d start off by maxing dex before diving into anything else but, this was an emergency.

“So you’re Emily too?” Nell asked. The three of us look at each other.

“Well no,” I start. “When I made them I tried to embody someone else, different ideals, impulses, past, skills, and personalities. They certainly did things that I would have done they’re different too.” Sure, _sometimes _I broke character but, they weren’t _just me._

Aerin jumped in. “And to be someone, we’d have to know their past right? We really don’t know very much about Emily before our adventures. I’m not like the angel here, or Emily. I was born and raised in Windrivver where I learned to fight. I left a year ago to prove my strength and come back to challenge my mentor to earn my place. I’m a pirate, I fought and drank and killed with them. That’s me.”

We eat dinner after that, and Vala volunteers first shift. I stayed up for a while but didn’t say anything after the rest of us turned in. Why? Because I was feeling pretty guilty for giving them traumatic, or in Vala’s case, straight up tragic, backstories. Aerin had had a hard life, but Vala’s was about as bad as it could get.

Not to mention, another thing I was looking at in the papers was Safari’s stats. His health now had said “1d2” for leveling die and he was at a max of 2 HP. Since my Class didn’t have anything to do with animal companions, I wondered what had happened there—I would guess I gave up something of mine on my character creation to buff him.

Or it was because he wasn’t really a domestic cat.

Safari had golden-brown fur and spots, a narrow snout, shorter tail, would grow long legs, and had big ears with a distinctive white stripe. He was a savannah cat, half-serval, half-domestic house cat, and, to my delight, legal in Chicago. He is clumsy on his big paws now, but he would grow well over twice the size of a regular housecat with some luck. And though he is little now, he’ll be quick, agile, and very smart in just a few months.

Finally, I tucked the sheet away. I couldn’t say what I was thinking but I said something else anyway. “I’m sorry I forgot about your radiant resistance for like 3 levels.”

She laughed. “Yeah, that would have really helped me out escaping the Stone Priest’s hideout.”

“And Hermes the hippogriff would still be alive…”

"Ah, mounts, they never do live long." Vala sighed dramatically. I chuckled at that, at that every bit of lingering doubt I had had. I was here, in my game of Dnd, with my most precious characters. It was real. 


End file.
